I'm going to be honest with you. I hate this place. This zoo, this prison, this reality, whatever you want to call it. I can't stand it any longer. It's the smell, if there is such a thing. I feel saturated by it. I can taste your stink. I need the codes. I have to get inside Zion, and you have to tell me how. You're going to tell me or you're going to die. Can you hear me? I want you to play with my ding-a-ling
My ding-a-ling, my ding-a-ling